Two more letters from London in the winter 1815: Henry now just recovering from serious illness, about to face his bankruptcy, she writes buoyantly, showing congeniality with an apothecary, enjoying herself with Fanny. She will not take Henry’s lingering seriously. Interestingly she is writing Persuasion, often said to be the most melancholy romantic of her books at this time: one might remember Galperin’s book on Austen where he argues Persuasion was (or is?) meant to be funny. The novel as we have it is though deeply felt, romantic and conceived in a spirit which overtly takes in the larger world, and a strong contrast to Emma:

What is most striking about these two letters are how cheerful they are. All three letters (and this needs to be emphasized) around this time show a real affection and interest in Haden (who can allude to Shakespeare and take an intelligent view of Mansfield Park) stronger than any male we’ve seen since Lefroy. In the early part of her relationship with Bridges, she is grateful to him for his kindness, for not condescending to her like his relatives, but she is never keen, and towards the end he has offended her in some embittering way — besides his having married a “poor honey.”

This kind of resentment this set of London letters seem unusually free of: there is no jealousy of Fanny that I can detect; she is amused and entering into fun. Perhaps both women felt it so obvious they could not marry him (as beneath them, as not having the estate required), this freed them to enjoy themselves. They hobnob with apothecaries, Jane worries about her servant Richard. We see in the letter acts of kindness — remembering others. Keppel street is now not despised.

I like Diane’s point (see below) that Haden is more like the (generalized) portraits of Willoughby and Frank Churchill, or Mr Elliot than like our sober awkward heroes, unable to socialize with ease (Darcy). Austen liked the socially adept and we’ve seen her prefer the more conventional person (Fanny, her brother Frank in numerous ways) to the more unconventional (Anna, Henry — her brother who she does not sympathize with, or see him fully again and again); that is, people she is unlike if the descriptions by others of her social behavior which Henry in his hagiographical note seeks to offset and counter (“her true character” by those who really knew her &c&c) is accurate.

To me one of the elements of her personality which went into what feels like enigmatic shaping of her books is this movement away from the unconventional is unconscious; she realizes that level of understanding in her books only through her revisions upon revisions when the “gold” of the text starts to come in …

With Martha she is more serious, the relationship is permanent: back to money, back to making sure she is understood, but we can see she is now likes that she has been asked to dedicate her book. So she has to re-tell Martha she is not eager about the money.

At the same time the letter registers that Henry is not getting better real quick, he is lingering — despite her professing to think Haden hangs around to see Fanny and she is aware of how badly his business is going. There is a disconnect here. She does not seem to understand what this bankruptcy is going to mean, how serious it will be for her too. Did Henry hide it from her? Did she not want to look, not know enough about the way banking proceeded (without all the laws to protect it as today — though we see some very negative results of that protection now).

Austen just does have 20 months to live and we are probably seeing her at her most successful, with most eagerness towards her future. I now realize how painful, miserable her death from a cancer must’ve been, what the decline so hesitantly noted means. She couldn’t sit up when she is propped up on three chairs. This period lacks morphine; they had only opiates from opium.

Importantly (according to Cassandra’s note) Austen has begun Persuasion: she began it August 1815. The next letter registers her worries that Emma repeats itself, has not enough adventures to interest readers – and it is a quiet book — the 1972 movie is marvelous in making it feel active — so I suggest that it is insufficiently appreciated that in her return to Catherine (NA) which we’ll see evidence of soon in the letters ajnd this new book there is a change. A sea captain who has high adventures, dangerous, making money, visiting people outside the family and of lower origins (Wentworth’s friends) and here we should think about Charles and Frank’s status at the time, how they lived, their wives and familes. And NA is a book about history, a part gothic and also shows an attempt to do something new. She died too quick for us to see what she would or could have made of them some more.

**********************

Henry Austen when a clergyman

Letter 128, Sun 26 Nov 1815 (Letter 128)

Two days after the previous letter, Austen writes another similar letter to Cassandra: with vignettes of her and Fanny and Henry’s London life while Jane reads proofs for Emma and enjoys socializing in the evenings, doing errands, visiting relatives (Keppel Street where Charles’s childen live with their mother’s family), and again we see her delight in Mr Haden.

She is sending and receiving parcels and is up to proofing the last phase of Emma before Jane and Frank are found out: when Emma tries to give Jane arrowroot. She wants to be sure that Martha at least knows the truth she would have preferred not to dedicate the book to HRH, and says it was Henry’s idea to use this dedication as a way to hurry the printers on. It’s comic (a joke) of hers to insist that Martha be “thoroughly convinced of my being influenced by nothing but the most mercenary of motives.” She has other motives then, Martha owed 9 shillings to one of the Palmers and Jane has paid it (see Diana’s qualification of this interpretation below).

My Dearest

The Parcel arrived safely, & I am much obliged to you for your trouble.-It cost 2 pound lO but as there is a certain saving of 4 pair on the other side, I am sure it is well worth doing.-I send 4 pr of Silk Stocke–; but I do not want them washed at present. In the 3 neckhandfs, I include the one sent down before.- These things perhaps Edward may be able to bring, but even if he is not, I am extremely pleased with his returning to you from Steventon. It is much better-far preferable.-I did mention the PR- in my note to Mr Murray, it brought me a fine compliment in return; whether it has done any other good! I do not know, but Henry thought it worth trying.- The Printers continue to supply me very well, I am advanced in vol. 3. to my arra-root, upon which peculiar style of spelling, there is a modest query? in the Margin.-I will not forget Anna’s arrow-root.-I hope you have told Martha of my first resolution of letting nobody know that I might dedicate &c-for fear of being obliged to do it-& that she is thoroughly convinced of my being influenced now by nothing but the most mercenary motives.-I have paid nine shillings on her account to Miss Palmer; there was no more oweing.-

Then an account of them shopping and moving about London: Grafton House, 164 New Bond Street, a fashionable linen-draper, Sandling the house of the Deedes family (perhaps with Park). The sadness of seeing these motherless children of Fanny Palmer, and Fanny Austen Knight who took over her mother’s place when Elizabeth Austen died, identifying.

Well-we were very busy all yesterday; from ll past 11 to 4 in the Streets, working almost entirely for other people, driving from Place to Place after a parcel for Sandling which we could never find, & encountering the miseries of Grafton House to get a purple frock for Eleanor Bridges.-We got to Keppel Street however, which was all I cared for-& though we could stay only a quarter of an hour, Fanny’s calling gave great pleasure & her Sensibility still greater, for she was very much affected at the sight of the Children.-Poor little Frank looked heavy.-We saw the whole Party.-Aunt Har’.’ She hopes Cassy will not forget to make a pincushion for Mrs Kelly-as she has spoken of its being promised her several times.-I hope we shall see Aunt H.-& the dear little Girls here on Thursday.

Morning meant all time before dinner. Then the gay evening with Haden and Fanny — they are flirting (Jane thinks they were on two chairs, hard to tell) and Mme Latoucher and Miss East, music playing (harp). Barlowe is one of Henry’s clerks. Mr Haden paying Jane the compliment of reading MP “prefers it to P&P” no doubt pleasing her. Hare and 4 rabbits from Godmersham so they are well stocked. (Pheasants in the previous letter.)

So much for the morning; then came the dinner & Mr Haden who brought good Manners & clever conversation;-from 7 to 8 the Harp; at 8 Mrs Lamp; Miss E. arrived-& for the rest of the Eveng the Draws-room was thus arranged, on the Sopha-side the two Ladies Henry & myself making the best of it, on the opposite side Fanny & Mr Haden in two chairs (I beleive at least they had two chairs) talking together uninterruptedly.-Fancy the scene! And what is to be fancied next?-Why that Mr Haden dines here again tomorrow.- To day we are to have Mr Barlow-and Mr Max is just bringing in the remaining papers.

Then she turns attention to Chawton, a ill farmer, Cassandra cooking sugar? Jane is sure that Cassandra needs rest.

Poor Farmer Andrews! I am very sorry for him, & sincerely wish his recovery
— A better account of the Sugar than I could have expected. I should like to help you break some more.-I am glad you cannot wake early, I am sure you must have been under great arrears of rest.-

The Herries family had two unmarried daughters so perhaps they are interested in Henry. “Mortar” defeats me because in context it makes no sense. Jane is in terror on a fine bright Sunday with plenty of mortar (money?) and nothing to do?

Fanny & I have been to Belgrave Chapel, & walked back with Maria Cuthbert.-We have been very little plagued with visitors this last week, I remember only Miss Herries the Aunt, but I am in terror for to day, a fine bright Sunday, plenty of Mortar’ & nothing to do.-

Another long account of Henry: there is a lot about him in these letters by this time – more than any other of her brothers; he appears more and a complex picture emerges. He goes out daily but he is not yet well. We have to remember these looming bad business affair. He is not sure what he should do next. Jane is ever suspicious of illness: this time it’s Mr Haden who is making the illness worse; he’ll be allowed to get well when Fanny goes home; that is when Mr Haden no longer has Fanny to flirt with.

Henry gets out in his Garden every day, but at present his inclination for doing more seems over, nor has he now any plan for leaving London before Dec 18, when he thinks of going to Oxford for a few days; to day indeed, his feelings are for continuing where he is, through the next two months. One knows the uncertainty of all this, but should it be so, we must think the best & hope the best & do the best – and my idea in that case is, that when he goes to Oxford I should go home & have nearly a week of you before ~ take my place. – This is only a silent project you know, to be gladly given up, if better things occur.-Henry calls himself stronger every day & Mr Haden keeps on approving his Pulse-which seems generally better than ever-but still they will not let him be well.- The fever is not yet quite removed.- The Medicine he takes (the same as before you went) is cheifly to improve his Stomach, & only a little aperient. He is so well, that I cannot think why he is not perfectly well.-I should not have supposed his Stomach at all disordered but there the Fever speaks probably;-but he has no headake, no sickness, no pains, no Indigestions!-Perhaps when Fanny is gone, he will be allowed to recover faster.-

The first reference in a while to Anna Austen Lefroy’s world; the family at the Wyards are people Anna and Ben lived with at first:

I am not disappointed, I never thought the little girl at Wyards very pretty, but she will have a fine complexion & curling hair & pass for a beauty.-

Then a reference to Frank and his wife: she had a cold and Jane is glad it was not a bad one; it’s not fair that “sweet aimable Frank should have a cold too.” Then there is (to me) a switch in tone when she quotes Burney’s Evelina from a letter where Captain Mirvan is ugly and obnoxious to Madame Duval throughout: Madame Duval is pretending to worse health in the letter in order to get better treatment and the coarse Captain just mocks her more. It’s one of these places in 18th century texts where a much harder nastier (I’d call it) sense of humor comes out than the one socially acceptable today.

We are glad the Mama’s cold has not been worse & send her our Love & good wishes by every convenient opportunity. Sweet amiable Frank! why does he have a cold too? Like Capt. Mirvan to Mde Duval,” ‘I wish it well over with him.’

A non sequitor: ”Fanny has heard all that I have said to you about herself & Mr Haden.”

This one interests me because we see here that Jane thinks of her writing to Cassandra as a mode of talking –- as some of us at least do about letters and postings on the Net.

The letter concludes with a relatively rare comment on the youngest brother Charles. Jane succeeding is filled with milk of human kindness. Sweet Charles has no one sent him a present. She will send all the 12 copies that were to be dispersed among the “my near connections – beginning with the PR and Countess of Morley.” This sarcasm shows us (as Diana suggests) how little she actually knew the Countess; I’ll add too how the sycophancy of giving these prestigious well connected rich people copies of her book grated on her:

Thank you very much for the sight of dearest Charles’s Letter to yourself.- How pleasantly & how naturally he writes! and how perfect a picture of his Disposition & feelings, his style conveys!-Poor dear Fellow!- not a Present!-I have a great mind to send him all the twelve Copies which were to have been dispersed among my near Connections- beginning with the PR. & ending with Countess Morley.-Adeiu.- Yours affectionately …

And here’s Diana’s slightly different reading:

I think we left off, did we not, after the James Stanier Clarke letters, 125 D (to him), and 125 A (from him). I’m ready to move on from there. I think I hit a bump in the road when I realized that in order to “do” Clarke properly I really ought to summarize Chris Viveash’s excellent small book about him, simply because probably most other people don’t have it and would like to know all about him. If you haven’t read thia book about Clarke’s career, well, there’ve been tons of blogs written about him, and the sketchbook, and the dedication, and… I see Ellen wrote about Letter #126, the short business letter to John Murray, and Diane wrote about Letter #127, both very fully. Rather blithe that, about pheasants and printers and Haden.

So let’s get to Letter #128. Jane and Cassandra have been deedily exchanging packages. It was a skill then, planning what should be delivered depending on when somebody was going somewhere; but it’s all taken for granted, not seen as a difficulty, just how things had to be done. Jane is sending four pair of silk stockings, “but I do not want them washed at present,” she says. Wonder why not? Were they worn ones, or new? She is pleased Edward is going to see Cassandra, whether he can bring the things or not.

She mentions that it was indeed Henry who wanted her to goad the printers with the news of her dedication to the Prince Regent – it does sound more like him than her! She is going through proofs, and is nearly finished, as the “arra-root” Emma sends to Jane Fairfax is toward the end of the book. You can see she thought out every detail of the dedication question, in all its delicacy. “I hope you have told Martha of my first resolution of letting nobody know that I might dedicate & c – for fear of being obliged to do it.” It seems clear she didn’t really want to, though perhaps was a little bit pleased to have the honor of having been asked. And now Martha thinks she did it for “nothing but the most mercenary motives.”

She describes a day of running around with Fanny – “from 1/2 past 11 to 4 in the Streets,” five and a half hours, “working almost entirely for other people, driving from Place to Place after a parcel for Sandling which we could never find, & encountering the miseries of Grafton House to get a purple frock for Eleanor Bridges.” Don’t know who is Sandling, but the widowed Fanny Lady Bridges was living at the dower house at Goodnestone (according to Deirdre). A very brief visit to Keppel Street (15 minutes, barely a full call), where Fanny was “very much affected” by the sight of the motherless children.

“Then came the dinner & Mr. Haden who brought good Manners & clever conversation.” She brightens up at the mention. Several other visitors, and the harp was played; Mrs. Latouche and Miss East on the sopha, Jane and Henry “making the best of it” opposite, with “Fanny & Mr. Haden in two chairs (I believe at least they had two chairs) talking together uninterruptedly.” Did they seem too close? “And what is to be fancied next? – Why that Mr. H. dines here again tomorrow!” Today they have Mr. Barlow (Henry’s chief clerk). She notes, “Mr. H. is reading Mansfield Park for the first time & prefers it to P&P.” So multiple readings of her books were already known!

She and Fanny have been to Belgrave Chapel and walked back with Maria Cuthbert. Deidre informs us that “Miss Cuthbert, her sister Maria, and their brother lived at Eggarton House near Godmersham, where they looked after Elizabeth, the feeble-minded sister of Mr. Thomas Knight.” However, I see that Elizabeth Knight died 1809, so the Cuthberts no longer had her charge, yet the connection with them was still evidently kept up. Someone has done a short blog about Jane’s visiting this Belgrave chapel, with a picture of it.

Jane writes that they have been “very little plagued with visitors this last week, I remember only Miss Herries the Aunt, but I am in terror for to day, a fine bright Sunday, plenty of Mortar & nothing to do.”

What she means by “plenty of Mortar” Deirdre cannot say, only refers to a popular song and wonders if she meant money. I’m sure I don’t know either. “Bricks and mortar” was daughter in Cockney rhyming slang, but that doesn’t fit.

Henry is getting better, goes out in his garden every day, but doesn’t think of leaving London, or going to Oxford, until 18 December. Jane’s comment on this is, “One knows the uncertainty of all this, but should it be so, we must think the best & hope the best & do the best – and my idea in that case is, that when he goes to Oxford I should go home & have nearly a week of you before you take my place.” Again, planning for everything, adapting to the convenience of others… “Henry calls himself stronger every day & Mr. H keeps on approving his Pulse – which seems generally better than ever – but still they will not let him be well.” He takes “only a little aperient” (a mild laxative, coming from hops or asparagus). Her bon mot: “He is so well, that I cannot think why he is not perfectly well.”

A couple of affectionate remarks about her brothers – “Sweet amiable Frank! why does he have a cold too?” and in thanking Cassandra for a sight of Charles’s letter, “How pleasantly & how naturally he writes! and how perfect a picture of his Disposition & feelings, his style conveys!” She adds, “Poor dear Fellow! – not a Present! – I have a great mind to send him all the twelve Copies which were to have been dispersed among my near Connections – beginning with the P.R. & ending with Countess Morley.” If ever we wondered if she actually knew Countess Morley, this is the answer, for calling the Prince and the Countess her “near Connections” is a joke.

On this phrase: “I have paid nine shillings on her account to Miss Palmer; there was no more oweing.”

She was talking about Martha in the sentence before, so it’s not quite clear to me if it’s Martha who was owing Miss Palmer nine shillings. Then she writes (after “encountering the miseries of Grafton House, to get a purple frock for Eleanor Bridges”), “We got to Keppel St however, which was all I cared for – & though we could stay only a qr of an hour, Fanny’s calling gave great pleasure & her Sensibility still greater, for she was very much affected at the sight of the Children – Poor little F.[Frances-Palmer, three years old] looked heavy. – We saw the whole Party. – Aunt Hart. [Charles’s sister-in-law, and later, second wife] hopes Cassy [Cassandra-Esten, then age seven] will not forget to make a pincushion for Mrs. Kelly – as *she* has spoken of its being promised her several times. I hope we shall see Aunt H. – & the dear little Girls here on Thursday.”

As others are writing away: Keppel Street, as we have seen, was the home of Charles’s in-laws, the Palmer family, at No. 22. John Grove Palmer (d. 1832) former Attorney General of Bermuda, married Dorothy Ball, and had one son John Palmer (witH whom he was on bad terms? according to Deirdre), and three daughters: Esther, who married John-Christie Esten [Deirdre also calls him James], Chief Justice of Bermuda; Harriet-Ebel, and Frances-Fitzwilliam. The two latter both married Charles Austen. Now, Charles married Frances in Bermuda in 1807, and she died in 1815, leaving him with four daughters Charles did not marry her elder sister Harriet until 1820, so at this date the “Miss Palmer” Jane Austen refers to is undoubtedly the children’s “Aunt Harriet.” Jane Austen as we have seen visited in Keppel Street often when she was in London, but there is no reason to believe that Fanny always accompanied her. It may be that’s why Fanny’s visit, and her emotion, made “I have paid nine shillings on her account to Miss Palmer; there was no an impression on the Palmers – perhaps she had not visited and seen the motherless children since Frances’s death which occurred in September 1814, a little more than a year before this letter

There is a letter missing (15 December) between this one and the last (26 November 1815): we can tell because this refers back to it. It may have described too frankly Henry’s impending bankruptcy. As the letter opens he has returned from Oxford but might not if he had known. Known what? We cannot say. Mr Tilson , one associate wrote on Wednesday that Mr Seymour, the lawyer (who may have proposed or thought to propose to Austen) said it’s safe for him to come back. Henry now may be at risk for debtor’s prison.

Then we get one of these typical sentences of hers where she avers that Henry is just fine: that he gave a good account of his feelings, met with utmost care and attention (it sounds like from Austen’s pen, women friends again), was “quiet and pleasant, no respect the worse, quite sure of being himself.” I’ve learned not to trust these after the series about him just after Eliza’s death: even through her laconic accounts and almost refusals to recognize his withdrawal and distress came through. Let us recall he’s been sick for weeks; but according to Jane he made sure his return would be a “complete gala” By securing Mr Haden.

Really? Henry delights in Mr Haden in the same way Jane does? More likely Henry invited Haden to make it not be a family party (no talk of bankruptcy then), because he knew his niece and sister seemed besotted (Jane says Haden’s somewhere between “a man and an angel”), and knew Haden would come partly in hope of some fee. Haden is still caring for Henry as a medical man.

Then we get the famous passage – wonderfully playful about Mr Haden being no apothecary. He is not, there is none in the neighborhood, not even a medical man . No he is a Haden, nothing but a Haden …

The wit deflects (as her irony often does in her books) what Cassandra’s warning that Jane and Fanny are getting too familiar with someone beneath them: Jane’s joke Haden is the only person not an apothecary in this neighborhood is perhaps a reference to how people doctored themselves then, made up their own concoctions.

Then maybe Cassandra was asking about the bouts of singing with Fanny; again Jane counters: Mr Haden has never sung to them, he must have a pianoforte. Austen writes the letters by association. Jane moves on from this to Mr Meyers giving his lessons (that’s where the singing is coming from she implies), 3 a week but often on different days, never punctual, does not produce sufficient value for the money paid. She has no more faith in music masters than her Elizabeth Bennet does in teachers: Austen reverses the usual idea and says the master is taking liberties with the scholar’s valuable time.

Quick and determined change of topic: they will be delighted to see Edward on Monday, only sorry Cassandra loses him; they will be grateful for the turkey he brings (as they were in previous letters for the pheasants). He will be alone in the bedchamber as Henry has moved downstairs where it’s warmer. “He found the other cold.” He’s not well but this maneuver of his brings to Austen thoughts of her hypochondriac mother: she’s so sorry mother suffering but “this exquisite weather is too good to agree with her.”

It’s winter & a passage refers to her sense of the beauty of winter that we’ve seen in earlier letters. Then she goes on to have some fun – showing her distance from these (pseudo?) sick people: she loves this weather in all as: “I enjoy it all over me, from top to toe, from right to left . Longitudinally Perpendicularly, Diagonall … ” she hopes it will last “nice, unwholesome, Unseasonable relaxing close muggy” … Just what she longs for all the time (!).

Switch again: she thanks Cassandra for her long letter, it did her such good: did it? How? By reminding her about Mr Haden? Henry accepts Cassandra’s offer of 9 gallons of mead. This is not the first reference to their making homemade wine.

I don’t understand what was the mistake about the dogs. Perhaps someone could enlighten me?

Henry is clearly cold: he is making a 3rd attempt at strengthening, warming plaister. Jane is oddly cheerful let’s admit: she has no doubt he will set off for Chelsea about the bonds, she has no doubt he’ll be every day at Henrietta St. She is carrying on the attitude towards plaister and her doubts about Henry’s continued illness instead of registering for us all these trips are about his becoming a bankrupt.

She is not admitting a reality that will affect her: so she goes on to gay socializing. She and Fanny were “snug, quite at their ease” when their “invalid” (Henry) was at Hanwell. Then we hear about her maneuvers not to have guests beyond Haden. She fended off the Malings. She even caught a cold but it’s been put to account: they had an excuse to see no one but Mr Tiloson and “our Precious” (Haden) They will be allowed in this evening (the Malings)

Then there are the Palmers and girls coming – this morning; Jane appears miffed that Miss Palmer said she could not come Thursday and would not name or come another day. Was fare cheaper on others days? Jane offers not to send dirty linen to Chawton any more (a thought linked to the Palmers) for you have to pay the same bill whether your clothes were clean or not (Makes me wonder what were their daily customs as to bathing too). Family matter reminds her of Anna’s arrow-root which she has for Anna — thought helpful when pregnant? Or nursing? And she has gloves for Cassandra.

Jane ends on a God bless and apology for her brevity. But she felt she had to send it to spare Cassandra writing again – though this letter does not seem to say much at all.

Books were sold unbound and people provided their own bindings; in a PS Austen thinks to herself suddenly she had no business to chose one for the regent. Here LeFaye provides a note to the effect that after all Murray did send the book bound. So again Austen is struggling against the family’s impulse to put themselves forward when near the prince (push in, choose things for him). She and Cassandra will take counsel (go to a lawyer of their own did not). The joke of the next sentence is its juxtaposition: she is glad Cassandra put a flounce on her chintz. Just a momentous as any prince’s binding. “I am sure it must look particularly well, & it is what I had thought of …” Dry humor; the association may be that she Austen did not think of all these ribbons …

Diana’s reading:

I don’t have much to add to what Ellen, Diane and Arnie have comprehensively written about this letter. Henry is clearly improving, well enough to be traveling. In the previous letter, #128 on 26 November, she wrote “Henry gets out in his Garden every day, but at present his inclination for doing more seems over, nor has he now any plan for leaving London before Dec: 18, when he thinks of going to Oxford for a few days.” Deirdre seems to think he may be have left the bank’s head office on account of the impending collapse of the Alton branch of Austen, Grey & Vincent. Her remark, “I had the pleasure of hearing from Mr. T[ilson] on Wednesday night that Mr. Seymour thought there was not the least occasion for him absenting himself any longer,” makes this seem likely. Where was he? At Hanwell, Middlesex, a village eight miles northwest of London, on the Wycombe Road. Jane has had “the comfort of a few lines from Henry…giving so good an account of his feelings as made me perfectly easy. He met with the utmost care and attention at Hanwell, spent his two days there very quietly & pleasantly, & being certainly in no respect the worse for going, we may believe that he must be better, as he is quite sure of being himself.”

Henry was an optimist, and Jane is showing herself and Cassandra as being aware of his upbeat spirit, which they both know may paint too bright a picture of everything from the bankruptcy to his health. Still, despite the subtle qualifier, she is reassured enough to be cautiously optimistic about his improvement, too, and the tone of her letter is cheerful.

And what was Hanwell, who lived there? That was the home of the Miss Moores. We may remember that she has mentioned the place before. In Letter #112, 29 November 1814, she writes to Anna, “We are expecting your Uncle Charles tomorrow; and I am to go the next day to Hanwell to fetch some Miss Moores who are to stay here until Saturday.” The note tells us that these were the Misses Harriet and Eliza Moore, of Hanwell, perhaps relations of Mr. Gordon of Cleveland Row, a business friend of Henry’s. The other reference, Letter #105, 23 August 1814 from Hans Place, is this passage: “Henry wants me to see more of his Hanwell favorite, & has written to invite her to spend a day or two here with me. His scheme is to fetch her on Saturday. I am more & more convinced that he will marry again soon, & like the idea of her better than anybody else at hand.” That was Miss Harriet Moore. So where Henry went, when it may have expedient for him to be out of town, was to these friends.

His return was “a complete Gala,” but Jane’s tone of satisfaction seems more sparked by Haden than Henry. How she likes him! “I need not say that our Eveng was agreable.” As Ellen says, Cassandra may have cautioned her about being too intimate with a mere apothecary – perhaps a remark in reaction to Jane’s last letter, where she rather friskily told about Fanny and Haden sitting so close together, saying, “I believe at least they had two chairs” – certainly an indecorum sufficient to alarm Cassandra! So now Jane mocks her about that, with her playful “he is not an Apothecary” riposte, and “he is a Haden, nothing but a Haden, a sort of wonderful nondescript Creature on two Legs, something between a Man & an Angel – but without the least spice of an Apothecary. – He is perhaps the only person not an Apothecary hereabouts.” No wonder Cassandra was worried, there is indecorousness somewhere afoot!

Haden does not sing without a pianoforte accompaniment; Jane mentions Fanny’s music lessons with a Mr. Meyers, which she does not much approve of, on the basis that Music Masters are “made of too much consequence & allowed to take too many Liberties with their Scholar’s time.”

Edward is coming and “A Turkey will be equally welcome with himself,” a back handed Jane compliment! She proceeds to be sarcastic about her mother, too: “I am sorry my Mother has been suffering, & am afraid this exquisite weather is too good to agree with her.” She continues into her famous panegyric on the weather: “I enjoy it all over me, from top to toe, from right to left, Longitudinally, Perpendicularly, Diagonally.”

Then domestic matters – Henry is grateful of Cassandra’s offer to make “his nine gallon of Mead.” We don’t know what “the mistake of the Dogs” was. He is trying a “strengthening Plaister,” perhaps something warming, which it is to be wished he will be able to keep on, as she is sure he will be getting out more now. “He sets off this morning by the Chelsea Coach to sign Bonds & visit Henrietta St., & I have no doubt will be going every day to Henrietta Street.” So he is back taking care of business again.

She and Fanny were “very snug by ourselves, as soon as we were satisfied about our Invalid’s being safe at Hanwell.” By “Manoeuvring & Good Luck we foiled all the Malings attempts upon us” – using her slight cold as an excuse. This was very useful, and they saw “nobody but our Precious, & Mr. Tilson.” Precious would be the precious Haden, of course!

The Malings will be allowed to drink tea; the Palmers may come; Jane will not send down any more dirty linen, but she has got Anna’s arrow-root and Cassandra’s gloves. She adds that she has “no business to give the P.R. a Binding, but we will take Counsel upon the question” – meaning the presentation copy. In the end Murray decided on the binding. She moves from that to being glad Cassandra has put the flounce on her chintz, as if the Prince Regent’s presentation copy is just another of the trivial details she packs into the end of the letter.

My rejoinder:

I demur only at Diana’s simply accepting Jane’s characterization of Henry at face value. He has returned with a transcript by Jane of his usual kind of remark: he means to stay home for a while now. Enough. Yes he did go to the flattering women, and Jane takes that to mean he’s just fine; well there’s another way of seeing all these resorts to people who make up to him. Sore feelings; all he has worked so hard to build against terrile odds now going to pieces. Who wouldn’t turn to such comfort no matter how much it will be of little avail for what matters. He is very poor in later life. As to his physical state, he’s still suffering from cold and stays downstairs where the heat need not rise; her funny characterization of how she just loves this awful weather is directed at him as well as her mother.

******************

There was one high point for her social existence ahead as yet: Scott’s review and what he wrote of Emma. Scott himself praising her this way, writing about her …

And of course she was writing Persuasion and rewriting Northanger Abbey.

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Henry came back yesterday, & might have returned the day before if he had known! as much in time. I had the pleasure of hearing from Mr TIlson on wednesday night that MR Seymour thought there was not the ieast occasion for his absenting himself! any longer.-I had also the comfort of a few lines on wednesday morn- from Henry himself — (just after your Letter was gone) giving so good an account of his feelings as made me perfectly easy. He met with the utmost care & attention at Hanwell, spent his two days there very quietly & pleasantly, & being certainly in no respect the worse for going, we may beleive that he must be better, as he is quite sure of being himself.- To make his return a complete Gala, Mr Haden was secured for dinner-I need not say that our Evens was agreable.-But you seem to be under a mistake as to Mr Haden.-You call him an Apothecary; he is no Apothecary, he has never xen an Apothecary, there is not an Apothecary in this Neighbourhood- the only inconvenience of the situation perhaps, but so it is-we have not a medical Man within reach-he is a Haden, nothing but a Haden, a sort of wonderful nondescript Creature on two Legs, something between a

NB: My Windows computer crashed between scanning in the first part of this letter and the last two and on my Macbook Pro I could only scan in the second and third page as pictures.

I am trying, for once, to invoke the spirit of the genteel Jane, though, as we know, in the “Jane debates” I take the side of the acerbic, witty, satirist Jane, ready to wield her rapier against cruelty, hypocrisy, selfishness and self-blindness in Georgian society. Jane came most alive through her writing, but did not take for granted the material pleasures of life: a good book, a warm fire, fine wine, a lovely piece of muslin, a trip to the theater or even a rousing slide on the ice with her nephews–and we–or at least I– know all this from her letters. When she wrote this letter, Emma was going into print. She had seen a string of at least modest successes: Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice, and Mansfield Park had been well-received. After years of frustration, she was launched. She was hardly Sir Walter Scott, but she had earned some money and with being “allowed” to dedicate Emma to the Prince Regent, realized she had come to the notice of the highest court circles. She had built a full life for herself, centered around her writing, her music, family members she liked, and now, trips back and forth between Chawton and London. In 20 months she would be dead, but who could foretell that? (And as I write that, I think how little has changed; how quickly we can still go.) But for now, she was in the prime of life. I am trying myself to dwell on this part of her life, to let what passed so quickly, too quickly, sink in. This is when she wrote–or had just written–Emma; this is when English literature was changed. I may be attacked for writing that, but I don’t think I am wrong. Somebody else, in her absence, might have filled her place–a Marxist would certainly attack me for vaunting an individual, as if the development of the English novel was not about economic forces, which, of course it was and is, but what we have, in history, is this particular Jane, writing these particular novels, that have influenced almost everybody we consider important writing in English. And it’s happening now, as we enter into her world and read these letters. Our glimpses are small, but we get them.

To begin: As Ellen noted, Jane addressed Cassandra as “My Dearest,” and as Diana noted, there is the mysterious affair of the four pairs of silk stockings sent to Chawton: why would Jane, or in this case not, want them washed and not “yet?” Why does she send them? She is full still of the business of Emma’s page proofs. Did bringing the Prince Regent to bear, as Henry suggested, do any good? Who knows? She has been queried, she notes, on her spelling of arrowroot. I remember the day I looked up arrowroot and found it was given to pregnant women. In her seamless move from fiction to fact, Jane promises to bring the arrowroot for Anna: “I will not forget Anna’s arrow root.” As Ellen as already mentioned, there’s the concern that Martha understand the dedication–it does seem that JA doesn’t want to look a hypocrite in front of her, and a nervous joke follows–I too agree it’s a joke–but a worried over-the-top-one–about Martha thinking her acting from “mercenary motives.” JA does care about Martha’s esteem, and while JA, of course, does care about making money, she wants it clear that it’s not in a base way–and as we know from her letter to Clarke, she’s not willing at all to sell her writer’s soul for cash. Is it to help placate Martha that JA pays the nine shillings on her account to Miss Palmer?

Who is this Miss Palmer? The biographical index lists the John Grove Palmer family, “Sometime Attorney General of Bermuda and later of 22 Keppel St, Bloomsbury,” but adds the cryptic comment that ” the Mrs and Miss Palmer mentioned in 1816 may be different people.” There’s a change of subject with the dashes and the word “well” to “we were very busy yesterday, from half past 11 to 4 in the Streets, working almost entirely for other people.” They are running errands, buying things, for others. Who is the “We” doing this? The implication is that JA would rather not–she endures “the miseries of Grafton House,” to get a purple frock for someone, bringing back to my mind her fanciful response to Anna’s delight in Grafton House. JA is beyond such delights, but what must be done must be done.

They do go to Keppel St, identified as the home of the John Grove Palmer family and a Miss Palmer is paid her nine shillings–it is difficult not to think this Miss Palmer is the one in question–and we not yet in 1816. Fanny’s “calling gave great pleasure & her sensibility still greater,” for she was affected at the sight of the motherless children. I first took this to mean that Fanny showed up unexpectedly at Keppel Street and her calling their and her sympathy gave Jane great pleasure, but if she were Jane’s shopping companion, the sentence means that Fanny’s calling and sensibility gave great pleasure to the family, implying that she was the most desirable and popular visitor, Jane possible “the poker” in the background, observing it all, still the socially marginal old maid. We do not hear that Jane gave great pleasure. Perhaps by this time she was tired from the shopping.

Is JA reporting with laughing amusement on the smallness of the conversation in Aunt Harriet’s hope that “Casey will not forget to make the pincushion for Mrs. Kelly–as she has spoken of it being promised her several times?” Or were such seeming trifles as a pincushion really of more importance than we know? I tend to think the former. More satisfying for JA was later in the day–dinner with Haden, “who brought good manners and clever conversation.” Following dinner, listening to the harp–a civilized life.

As Ellen noted, Haden and Fanny flirt. They are on one side of the room; the rest of the party on the other; JA jokes about Fanny and Haden sitting so close they might be on one chair. Jane is in good spirits–and why not? Her writing career is taking off, and, she, who likes people who are smart and well-socialized, has the company of Haden to look forward to tomorrow as well. Haden, from the little I have read him, seems to have been an exceptionally likable person. And on that note I will pick the letter up later.

I think you rightfully put into context two most important strains in JA’s life — fear of rapid financial decline that would attend her brothers’ career and business problems and coinciding rapid decline in her own health that she suspects is grave — as they appear in quite a few, ominous, leif motives in Persuasion, her novel in progress. Of all her works, Persuasion, long noted as “elegiac” in tone (I’ve often called it written in a minor key) seems to focus on illness, impending and actual death. Look how many strains of this we see — and from the very first chapter: the opening scenes at Kellynch read truly as a dirge to and a sort of wake for the beloved estate that Sir Walter, through his own spendthrift ways, has almost lost; we have both Sir Walter’s absurd surface hypochondria of vanity and his daughter Mary’s far more pathologic hypochondria that becomes a weapon she uses to get others to serve her and to manipulate with; we have the accidental “minor” injury of a nephew fallen from a tree; it is echoed far louder by true illness or infirmity with Captain Harville wounded and retired, Captain Benwick’s fiance dead, leaving him sick with grief; Louisa Musgrove’s head injury; even the grief of the elder, usually jolly, Musgroves over a son lost at sea — a heartache that must for them privately equal the loss of Benwick’s; loss (both personal and financial) and illness emerge united in Mrs. Smith, Anne’s old school friend now living as invalid in those horrid lower parts of Bath, and finally, the whole heart-wrenching suffering of Anne Elliot herself over these eight years as she has mourned what might have been were she a bride and wife to her beloved Wentworth. Anne Elliot does get to enjoy her years in the sun at last we learn by novel’s end. Sadly, her creator Jane Austen never did. Elissa

[…] writes in haste and twice. She had not been prepared for sudden departure (see previous letters 128-29). What emerges from later letters is that Henry’s bankruptcy has broken upon them, and they […]

I like the insight how Austen continues to defer her needs and desires to her brothers’. Fanny may want Henry to continue being treated as a patient to keep Haden coming, but he also may still need a doctor — which Austen would prefer not to allow so in spirit she is her own person and I assume she let Henry know it. I like Diane’s reading of Austen’s affection for Charles at letter’s end.
I agree the most striking thing in letter 129 is how buoyant, really cheerful Austen is — and yet she knows Henry has been very ill, is now near or at bankruptcy. I don’t think her enthusiasm over Haden is enough explanation as she does not go on to love him — if she thought of it quietly herself (dreamed at night of this man with whom she felt real congeniality), there is a lightness to her tone in the letter which suggests non-seriousness. She can enjoy him all the more — as can Fanny (though we don’t know Fanny’s thoughts we do know that when she married, she married high and well practically speaking, an older rich man with many children).

It could be the result of all four publications — not just Emma. She is a working author with a string of books, one a smash hit, the others respected, admired, and it doesn’t hurt to have aristocrats vying for her books. She is not at all immune to the respect automatically given to highly placed people, though herself tries to escape it and respect the lowly placed for themselves. She is writing Persuasion, has NA back.

But I know people respond to the immediate. I felt it somewhat heartless the way she breezes over Henry — she did when he was mourning as widower seem not to notice what she did register, real grief going on for several months at least. But more I suggest we have here a an aspect of her personality which went into writing her ambiguous books. They are books with more or less happy endings; she softens realities as she goes along; she tells us she turns her face away from guilt and misery. So I think it’s a way she deals with real loss to try to sweep it away as much as she can — she might not when she sits silently or thinks to herself, or writes someone more likely to accept dark thoughts (Cassandra we know early on scolded Jane fiercely when she was not more optimistic).

It’s a startle to me the idea that in the middle of deep distress some people become really cheerful. At least I’ve not seen it. I doubt it.

So again she bides our question. She may be worn with worry about what is going to happen to her family. She knows the London season is over for her. An illness such as she is about to manifest also comes from a psychic level of the body system or can enter that way. I am remembering the paragraph where she registers intense distress over the uncle’s betrayal of his apparently implied promise to leave money to these Austens; instead he left it to the harridan aunt who proceeded later in life to make JEAL her victim as long as she could by holding purse strings on him.